


You Flower, You Feast

by bipercabeth



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Smut, these idiots just don't know it yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 08:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipercabeth/pseuds/bipercabeth
Summary: You know how it goes: Annabeth thinks Percy and Rachel are flirting at a game, cue Jealousbeth.AKA the smut I left out of Puck It that everyone immediately begged for.





	You Flower, You Feast

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Puck It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17685329) by [bipercabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipercabeth/pseuds/bipercabeth), [jasonsmclean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasonsmclean/pseuds/jasonsmclean). 



> Is it weird to post this as inspired by Puck It when Megan and I are the ones who wrote it? Oh well, enjoy the link. 
> 
> Okay LISTEN. I know we're all here for the smut, so I didn't write the initial jealousy that causes all of this. If you haven't read Puck It, go do that first. But basically! Rachel comes to an away game and Annabeth thinks she and Percy are dating. That's it. Cue Jealousbeth. This scene immediately proceeds the scene in chapter four of Puck It. You know the one. We just jumped straight into plot here. 
> 
> Ask and you shall receive, my friends.

The team pushes the booths along the back wall into one massive table and settles in for their traditional postgame dinner. The only thing open close to the arena at this time of night is a lively sports bar, but the slew of hockey players fits right in with this crowd. 

There’s a Rangers game on one of the TVs across from Percy, who leans over the table slightly in interest. Annabeth follows, their shoulders staying pressed together on this tightly packed bench, with one hand in her lap while the other rests on the table. 

And then her hand is very suddenly not in _her_ lap. 

Feather light fingers trace the seam of his jeans, stopping about halfway up his thigh. His whole body tenses, rigid with anticipation and fear. He doesn’t dare glance at her. 

But he does shoot a precautionary look around the long table, which is stacked with teammates and bookended by coaches. Thankfully everyone’s eyes are on the games above their heads or the teammates across from them, and Percy and Annabeth are jammed so close together that it wouldn’t matter if their eyes did happen to wander. He silently thanks and curses her for her careful calculations. 

Every time he gets comfortable with the placement and turns his attention back to the game, Annabeth gives his thigh a squeeze and moves an inch higher. She’s running out of room at an alarming pace, but eventually her hand gets high enough on his leg that it’s impossible to get comfortable with. It’s insane that he’s considering that a win, but it slows her down, so it’s a win. 

The whole team jumps back and “ _OOH_ ”s at a dirty foul, but Percy is careful not to move too far from the table as he reacts. 

“Hey, Perce, did you see that?” Michael Yew calls out from across the table. “Kreider is out for the game, no question. Game over, man.” 

Percy has every intention of defending his team, but when he opens his mouth to speak, Annabeth drags her hand to the apex of his thigh and digs her nails into the denim. A strangled sound comes out of his mouth that he manages to cover with a cough, but only just. He gets a few wary glances, but most people just laugh. 

“That’s what I thought!” Michael cackles. “Suck it, Jackson.” 

This time he allows himself to look at Annabeth, whose hand still burns through the fabric of his jeans. Her grey eyes bore into his with a devious and dangerous light in them. 

“Go Islanders.” She shrugs and smiles easily at him, giving him another slight squeeze. 

He bolts up from the table before he even knows what’s happening. All he knows is he can’t look her in the eyes with her hand where it is. He probably can’t in the eyes for the rest of the night. 

On his way out of the booth he trips over several teammates, all of whom curse at him as he blocks their views and steps on their toes. All he can do is mumble apologies as he makes his way to the bathroom, echoes of the team laughing at his retreat sounding from behind him. Annabeth leads a few various Islanders cheers, and her laugh is the loudest among them. 

The bathroom is mercifully empty when Percy enters, so he pauses at the counter and takes a moment to compose himself. His watch tells him that they’ve only got about twenty minutes until the bus comes to take them back to Eastview. Twenty minutes. He can do that. Maybe. 

After about two minutes (eighteen left to go), the door swings open. Percy jumps, thinking a teammate has come in, but it’s just a random guy from the sports bar. Regardless, Percy covers by washing his hands before he goes back out to face the team. 

He makes it all of ten steps down the hallway before a hand hauls him into a dark corner by a service door. 

Annabeth’s breath ghosts over his neck as her voice comes from somewhere to his right. “Didn’t think you could get away from me that easily, did you?” 

“And if I did?” 

He can barely see her in this light, but he hears the smile in her voice. “We both know you aren’t that stupid.” 

“You’re right.” Percy says, turning toward her voice and stepping towards her. “Definitely not that stupid.” 

She backs into the door and pushes it open before he can reach her, the sudden surge of moonlight from outside illuminating the invitation on her face. Like an idiot, he follows. 

Annabeth is on him before he can check if the coast is clear or get a word in. His back hits the wall and he grunts against her from the impact, which she uses to take full control of the kiss. 

What the fuck has gotten into her? This is risky, even for them. There was that one time in the locker room, but they’d been completely alone then; they didn’t expect someone to run into them or come looking. Now it’s only a matter of time. 

Her hands roam his body: fisting in his hair, dragging down his torso, digging into his back through his jacket, slipping under said jacket. His senses are on overload trying to keep up with it. She runs her tongue along his bottom lip, careful not to bite since they still have to return to dinner, and he collects himself enough to take her face into his hands. 

Apparently that’s not the kind of kissing she has planned for them, because her hands fly up, grab his, and bring them down to her hips. Never one to deny Annabeth, Percy follows her lead, wrapping his arms around her waist before sliding his hands down to grab her ass. She hums into his mouth in satisfaction as he uses the grip to pull her even closer to him. 

Then, quick as lightning, Annabeth’s hand slips between them, and her fingers curl around the waistband of his jeans, the tips teasing against his skin. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he pants into her mouth, “you’re trying to kill me.” 

“Not yet.” She smirks and he feels it branded against his skin. Her hand slides the rest of the way into his pants, resulting in a groan that he isn’t in control of enough to stifle. 

“You know,” Annabeth smugly continues, “for someone who is terrified of being caught, you’re awfully loud.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

_That_ Percy can do. He tangles his hand in her hair and gives a light tug before bringing her face back to his. Her hand remains wedged between their bodies, but every other part of her presses into him. They kiss with an intensity that is—for all intensive purposes—a terrible idea considering the fact that they still have to face the team and coaches sitting in the restaurant, but they’re both too caught up in the heat of it all to care. 

Her hand wraps firmly around him the exact moment his phone dings from his front pocket. They both freeze, knowing exactly who is texting him and why. He fishes it out of his front pocket, wincing as the denim tightens over the situation in his pants. Annabeth’s hand has not moved. 

_Ten minutes til bus. I told Chiron you were sick in the bathroom, but please come back soon. He’s not buying it._

Percy relays this to Annabeth, watching her carefully as she visibly debates what to do next. 

She brightens upon coming to a conclusion. “Well, get back in there and act sick.” 

“Huh?” His eyes dart down to her hand (which is _still_ in his pants). “Annabeth?” 

“Shouldn’t be too hard.” The corners of her mouth twitch up as she releases him and steps back. “Go get ‘em.” 

In a daze, he walks towards the door. Before heading in he turns back to her. “You—”

“Yeah, I’m impossible. I know.” 

“I was going to say that you just made a pun, but yeah, that too.” And with that, he walks through the door of the restaurant, stopping in the dim hallway to readjust his pants and make this conversation as unembarrassing as possible. 

Jason sighs in relief when Percy appears. “Sorry about that, but he was asking a lot of questions and I got nerv—you okay? You actually look sick.” 

“Not sick. We were just, uh… _in the middle of things_ when I got your text.” Percy sighs. 

For a split second, Jason’s eyes flicker down to Percy’s crotch. Percy rolls his eyes and punches his shoulder. “Sorry.” Jason winces. “You alright? … okay, stupid question. Anyway, Chiron wanted us to round everyone up, so I told him the hot sauce didn’t agree with you. I’d say act sick, but you’re doing fine as is.” 

“There’s a lot to unpack there, but I’m the most offended by the fact that you told him I can’t handle hot sauce.” 

“Would you rather I told him that you were halfway to having sex with Annabeth in a bathroom?” 

“We were outside, actually.” 

“I hate you.” Jason’s hand goes to his temple in exasperation. 

“No you don’t.” 

“Right now? Just a little.” 

The bus ride back is… _uncomfortable_ , to say the least. At least the arena is only a thirty minute drive away. Percy keeps his hands firmly in his lap and thanks every deity he can think of that he didn’t wear his usual joggers or sweatpants after today’s game. Otherwise he’d have a huge problem on his hands. 

Annabeth chats happily alongside Piper a few rows ahead, not sparing Percy a single glance the whole way home. He’s not sure if that makes things easier or harder. 

Think of something else. Losing games. Sad puppy videos. His seventh grade bully. The pile of laundry waiting for him at home. The rest of the team finding out. Chiron’s disappointed face if he ever found out. What Hedge would do with his baseball bat if he ever found out. 

Okay. Not working. 

They grab their gear bags and pile out of the bus once it pulls into the desolate parking lot. The only cars in the lot are those from the team and the coaches, and Percy watches them disappear to the main road one by one. Annabeth is somewhere behind him with Piper, but he doesn’t dare look until they’re alone. 

Jason offers Piper a ride home, leaving Percy and Annabeth alone in an empty parking lot with just his car. “Need a ride?” Percy puts his hands in his pockets and walks towards her. 

“Of sorts.” Her eyes wander up his body. 

In a flash he tugs her to him, swiftly backing her into one of the doors of his car. He keeps his hands on her hips, pinning her against the metal and capturing her lips with his own. This kiss is just as urgent as the first one of the night, sans the hand down his pants. As much as Percy would enjoy that, he’d rather wait until they’re closer to a bed. Or a couch. Anything but his car, really. Other than that, he isn’t too picky. 

Percy relishes in this small taste of being out in the open with her, even if it’s at ten o’clock in the arena parking lot. It’s almost like they aren’t hiding, at least for a moment. He just gets to push her against the car and give her hell for the amount of teasing he’s endured from the past hour alone. He doesn’t have to work about messed up hair, heavy breathing, or swollen lips now, and he intends to make the most of that. 

Annabeth seems to have the same intentions. She pushes herself off the car and spins them so that he takes her place, then wedges herself between his legs and forces him back against the door. 

“You gonna take me home, or what?” She murmurs into his mouth. 

Definitely taking her home. To her apartment, not Percy’s (Jason would kill him if he had to hear what’s about to happen). 

Getting her home is easier said than done. The air in Percy’s car is thick with tension; the radio is off and they don’t say a word. Though Annabeth doesn’t touch him, she leans closer over the center console with each passing mile. He doesn’t understand why, but it has his heart pounding in his chest. 

He gets his answer when they hit their first stoplight. Percy barely has time to exhale in frustration before Annabeth flies over the console and attaches her lips to his jaw, quickly making her way down to the sweet spot on his neck. His head presses back against the headrest and tilts away from her, giving her better access without meaning to. 

“My _god_ , Annabeth.” He sighs, sliding a hand down her leg to rest between her thighs. At least he can do _that_ while he drives. 

“Ah ah, hands on the wheel.” She coos in his ear. “And eyes on the road.” She adds as he complies. 

Each second spent staring at this red light ticks by at an impossibly slow pace. His knuckles go white on the steering wheel as she makes her way up his neck to bite on his earlobe. All he wants to do is get his hands on her. 

The light turns green and Percy is not at all ashamed of how fast they accelerate through the intersection. Annabeth plops back down into her seat and pulls out her phone, seemingly unaffected by the sudden interruption until Percy catches her rubbing her thighs together out of the corner of his eye. 

He almost gets caught at two more red lights, but he’s able to (slightly) speed through them while they’re still yellow. Annabeth seems just an anxious to get to her place as he is, so she stays mercifully silent in the passenger seat. 

Together they walk to the elevator in her building. Percy expects the tension to break as soon as the door closes, but the second he follows her in, her hand shoots out against his chest. 

“Turn around.” She says, her eyes dark. He listens. 

Annabeth presses herself against him and slides her hands into his front pockets, dangerously close to where he wants them to be. He hisses in response and involuntarily tenses up in his shoulders. She just presses a kiss between his shoulder blades, travelling closer to the back of his neck as his shoulders fall back down. 

The elevator door opens and she pushes him through it, removing her hands from him and plucking her key from her pocket. His whole body hums with anticipation. This is where Percy gets to take control and finally get his hands on her.

She gives him no such opportunity tonight. 

Upon opening the door, Annabeth pulls him across the threshold and kicks it shut behind her. Percy rushes towards her to pin her against a wall, but she is having none of it. Her hands press into his chest and she marches forward until the back of his knees hit her couch. 

“Well?” She raises an eyebrow at him and gives a slight push.

Since he isn’t exactly in a position to deny her, Percy follows the momentum of her push and lands on the couch cushion. “Happy?” He fires back at her. 

“Not yet.” Annabeth mumbles as she straddles him and grinds down on him. His breath hitches from the friction of her hips rolling against him. “That’s a little better.” 

Percy has no idea what’s brought this on, but he’s more than happy to comply if it means she’ll continue to ruin him like this. She fits her lips to his and swallows the moan working its way out of his throat, her arms thrown over his shoulders to give her leverage to continue her devastating movements. 

They break the kiss to catch their breath, and during the pause she pulls her shirt over her head. Percy’s is not far behind it. 

Their lips meet again after a moment of wandering eyes; they’ve been doing this long enough to be familiar with each other’s bodies, but Percy will take every opportunity to stare at Annabeth. 

His jeans are feeling particularly restrictive when she starts moving again, and as much as Percy loves the sound of Annabeth gasping at the sensation of rough denim against her thin athletic shorts, he’d much rather neither of them were wearing pants at all. But he can’t deny the beauty of seeing her throw her head back, feeling her breath changing against his lips, so he’ll deal with the discomfort. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait too long. “Bedroom. Now.” She nearly growls at him. 

He represses the urge to respond with a “yes ma’am” and follows where she pulls him. Once they get to her door, it’s a repeat of the couch scenario; she pushes him down into it with the command in her eyes, and he follows it. Annabeth just stands there smirking in between his legs. _Fuck_ , she’s so hot. 

Her eyes flicker down to the bulge in his pants and her smirk grows even more. “You’ve been waiting for a while, huh?” 

He nods, not trusting his voice. 

“Want me to take care of that for you?” 

He gulps and nods even harder. 

Instead of pulling down his pants like he’d hoped she would, Annabeth prowls over him, careful to drag her entire body up the length of his as she slides up to his face to tease a kiss, keeping her lips less than an inch from his. 

“C’mon, Chase. No one likes a tease.” He says before surging up in an attempt to meet her lips. 

He’s stopped by a sudden and harsh roll of her hips that sends his head flying back into the pillow in pleasure. 

“You sure about that?” Her smug voice floats down to him. 

With his head all the way back, he leaves his neck exposed to her, which she takes full advantage of. First she spends some time teasing his jawline, then that sweet spot she’s memorized on his neck. His hands fly to her waist in response, his fingers digging into her skin to spur her on. She moves almost as soon as he touches her. 

Where Percy usually kisses in a straight trail down her body, Annabeth spends time in one spot and keeps him guessing where she’ll go next. She starts at his collarbone, which quickly becomes his sternum when his grip tightens, and then spends a considerable amount of time making his chest heave by kissing the ridges of his abs closest to his ribcage. His breathing only grows more uneven the lower she gets: above his belly button, below it, on his v line. He sees her eyes on him as she sears her final kiss into the skin just above the button of his jeans. 

Her hands brush against him as she undoes the button (and he’s sure that’s intentional), but he’s too preoccupied by the immediate relief of his jeans coming undone to give her shit for it. His erection is painfully evident through his boxers, but it’s no longer plain _painful_. Baby steps. 

Annabeth slides off to shimmy out of her shorts and panties, leaving her naked in front of him. If it were possible for him to get harder, he would at the sight of her. A devious smile on her lips, Annabeth reaches for the waistline of his boxers and tugs them down his legs. 

She rests between his legs and wastes no time in taking him into her mouth, one hand on his stomach to keep him laying flat on her bed. Percy tenses and moans, his hands instinctively fisting in her hair. He’s sure to be gentle and not force her head down, but she still stops and glares at him. 

“Paws off.” 

Without a handhold, Percy is left to fist his hands into her sheets as she ruins him. He can’t watch her while she sucks him off for fear of finishing too early. It wouldn’t even be his fault this time; she’s kept him waiting for _hours_. But still, he screws his eyes shut and tries not to fall apart underneath her. 

That’s easier said than done. 

At a certain point, it can’t be helped. Percy’s heart pounds in his chest and his breathing is far heavier than it was when she started. He has nothing to hold onto or focus on other than the feeling of her mouth and hands on him, so he approaches the brink pretty quickly despite his efforts. 

“Annabeth, I’m—” his voice cuts off with a moan as her hand tightens around him ever so slightly. 

She removes him from her mouth with a pop and continues stroking with her hands. “Yeah?” 

“I’m gonna—” this time his voice dies entirely. He dares to peak down at her and groans at the sight of her staring up at him with his dick in her hands. 

“Are you?” She asks, her tone far too smug for comfort. And just like that, she releases him. No explanation. She just sits up and flashes an evil smile down at him. 

He doesn’t even have an opportunity to protest before she’s making her way up his body (cruelly avoiding bodily contact) to tease a kiss again. This time he catches her by the back of her neck and keeps her right in front of him.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” He breathes. 

“I’m just getting started.”

That’s the final straw for Percy to pull her lips down to his. His other arm wraps around her waist and pulls her as close as possible; he’ll never get over the feeling of their bodies pressed together like this. Annabeth melts into him for a moment while he holds her there, kissing her like he’s using his last breath to do it. 

When he does let her go, she wastes no time in climbing further up his body and positioning herself over his face. All Percy does is chuckle up at her and wrap his arms around her legs, relishing in the opportunity to get some payback. 

By no means did Percy expect to be in control of eating Annabeth out, but he expected to have at least a little. He didn’t expect for her to tug on his hair and grind onto his face, but he responds with equal enthusiasm when she does. 

His grip tightens on her thighs in an attempt to hold her down the more she moves, but it’s no use. She pries his hands off her legs and interlaces their fingers long enough to pin his hands into the pillow above his head. 

Even without the use of his hands, Percy is able to bring Annabeth to the edge relatively quickly. After all, she’s been waiting just as long as he has. 

He doesn’t tease her with her orgasm, partially because he can’t deny her anything, and partially because he hopes she might return the favor. 

She releases his hands as she orgasms, so Percy uses them to their fullest extent. One travels up her torso to her breasts and doubles as support as her body tremors; the other seeks out her clit to prolong her high. 

Her body stops shaking long enough for her to swing off of him and flop onto the bed beside him. Percy sees his chance to take control and takes it, rolling onto her and pinning her down with his weight. She digs through the drawer of her bedside table like she’s on a mission, so Percy attaches his lips to her neck, sucking on that spot under her jaw that always draws the most delicious sounds from her. 

Annabeth thrusts her hips up to meet his, evening out the score of who can make the other moan more. Percy grinds down onto her, his vision going slightly white as he does. 

And then he’s on his back. And Annabeth is above him.

And his hands are tied to her headboard. 

Before he can fully process exactly what’s just happened, she’s on him: kissing his neck, touching his chest, grinding against him. She detaches from his neck long enough to meet his eyes. 

“This alright?” She asks, still moving against him. 

Percy wishes he could collect himself enough to give her a level response (a _resounding_ yes), but what comes out of his mouth is somewhere between a groan and a whine. 

Annabeth catches his meaning though, and she returns to her devastating movements. 

This is by far the hottest she’s ever looked: her entire being glows with a gorgeous confidence as she pushes her torso up and smirks down at him. Judging by the way her smirk grows, his face reflects his thoughts pretty accurately right now. 

She rolls the condom on him at an agonizingly slow pace and sinks down onto him in a similar fashion. A string of curses falls from Percy’s lips as she begins to move, her actions calculated, deliberate. 

Every move she makes has Percy writhing against the mattress, his hands twisting and straining in an attempt to break free of his bonds. After some feeling around, he’s concluded that it’s that same goddamn tie from Halloween. It’s fitting that she continues to use it to ruin him like he’s sure she’d planned to that night. If he’s being honest, this might be better; it’s certainly worth the wait. 

Percy feels powerless as she rides him like she’s got all the time in the fucking world. She got her orgasm, and he does _not_ want to think about how long she’s going to make him wait for his. 

Her hand plants on his chest and she drags it down his torso, lightly digging her nails in as she does so. On the way down, one of them catches on his nipple, drawing a moan from his lips. From that moment she presses her body against the red lines she made, shifting up his body enough that he can take one of her nipples into his mouth. Happy for the opportunity to touch her, Percy sucks and then pulls with his teeth, relishing in her sharp inhale and high pitched moan. 

Annabeth’s pace increases after that—in reward or punishment, he doesn’t know. But she lets him tease her back as much as he can with tied hands, so he’ll take what he can get. 

Rather than tell him to release her, Annabeth grabs a fistful of hair and yanks his head back down to the pillow, massaging the spot she just pulled once his head is down. Her pace picks up and he can tell she’s close from the way her eyebrows scrunch together in concentration. 

Her hand stays planted on his side below his pec, her thumb occasionally brushing against his nipple in an attempt to overwhelm him. 

“I’m gonna come.” She pants, straightening up to change the angle. 

“Can I—” 

“No.” 

Percy has to fight every fiber of his being that’s screaming for him to let go, so he closes his eyes to distract himself. His hands strain against the tie, wanting nothing more than to send her over the edge, but she does that on her own. 

When she speaks again, her voice has a sharp edge to it, signalling that she’s moments away. “Look at me.” She commands. 

Percy opens his eyes just as her mouth falls open and she clenches around him. She brings a hand to his face and forces him to look her in the eyes, which burn with an intensity he’s never seen from her. Dirty talk slips from her lips and devolves into near-babbled strings of syllables, her eyes locked on Percy’s all the while. 

It takes just about everything Percy has not to follow after her. She’s still thrusting wildly as she works herself down from her high, which would be enough to drive any person over the edge. Add in how long Percy has been waiting… it’s hard. It’s really fucking hard. 

Once she comes down, still sensitive from her orgasm, she slows and shifts to press her lips to his, him still buried inside her. Her hands rest on his neck before trailing up his arms, causing hope to rise up in his chest. She smiles against his lips and brings them back down to his face, and the hope dies as quickly as it arrived. 

Annabeth pulls back to look him in the eyes. “I think you’ve earned a reward.” She says, circling her hips just enough to earn a groan from Percy. In a flash, she darts forward and forces his head to the side to growl in his ear, her voice low. “But don’t you _dare_ let go until I say so.” 

Percy probably whimpers again in response, but he doesn’t care. If he didn’t believe so strongly in the threat in her voice, that sentence alone would’ve been enough to push him over the edge. A whimper is about all he can manage at the moment. 

The pace she sets this time is not as slow as the last, but it isn’t quite fast. Annabeth focuses more on the way that she moves, spending more time on things that draw sounds from Percy’s mouth. She stays low on him, watching him with burning eyes. There’s so much that’s going on in them, and Percy is sure he’d be able to read it all if he wasn’t being driven absolutely insane by her hips. 

He’s paralyzed by her intense gaze. She’s naked and on top of him and fucking his brains out and all he can do is look in her goddamn _eyes_. 

The change in her face comes a lot faster this time; he sees it in the crinkle of her brows, the parting of her lips, the hunger in her expression. Soon enough she’s half-leaning, half-falling so that her face rests in the crook of his neck. 

“Hold on, I’m close. Not yet, Percy.” Her voice resonates against his skin and is the only thing he can hear on his right side. She presses kisses to his neck as she continues to grind down on him, this time focusing on her own pleasure. 

Then her whole body tenses before falling apart. She doesn’t stop moving, but now he feels hot, heavy breath against his skin as her jaw drops and she finally falls over the edge. Percy’s world is reduced to this singularity: Annabeth’s voice in his ear, his name on her lips. Not orgasming is quite literally one of the hardest things he’s had to do, but he manages. 

Annabeth takes her time coming down, her thrusts slowing gradually as she does. Once her breathing slows and she’s had time to collect herself, she grins down at him. 

“What do you need?” A tease undercuts the softness of her voice. 

Percy shoots her an exasperated look. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“I just want to hear you say it.” She breathes, gently running her fingers up his sides and sending shivers down his spine. “What do you need?” Her head tilts all too innocently for the amount of damage she just did to him. 

“You. I need you.” He pants. 

Annabeth just raises an eyebrow at him, a signal that that isn’t enough. 

“Please. I need you, _please_.” 

Other words tumble from his lips, but it’s that first please that makes her nod and attach her lips to that sweet spot on his neck with a dedication even her earlier kisses can’t match. Percy moans at the feeling of her pressed up against him like this, their chests near flush and her _lipsteethtongue_ on his skin like fire. 

“Okay, Percy.” She whispers in his ear, moving slowly over him. 

He comes immediately, finally letting go of his self-control and giving into his body, her wishes. His mouth falls open as his head presses as far back into the pillow as it can. 

Her smile is all but branded into his neck as she draws it out of him; one of her hands rests on the other side of his neck, thumb tracing his jaw. Percy forgets how to speak all English, but he’s pretty sure the words tumble from his lips anyway. Annabeth’s name. Like a prayer. 

She rides him through it, pressing him down into the bed with her entire body moving against his, and this is not the ending he expected at all. He expected… he isn’t sure what he expected. Something faster? Harder? Definitely less passionate. That was far too passionate for Annabeth fucking the life out of him. That was Annabeth claiming him, ruining him for anyone other than her as if he wasn’t already. It was deliberate. 

But before any of that can be addressed, there’s one thought at the forefront of Percy’s mind. 

“You just tied me up? Oh my fucking _god_. You just tied me up.”


End file.
